


Lifelines

by Neuvieme



Series: Addendum [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: A retelling of Stormblood's events, Alternate Universe, Au Ra Xaela WoL, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Slightly vague WoL
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-01-16 23:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12352317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuvieme/pseuds/Neuvieme
Summary: A collective of stories and passages recounting the journey of the Warrior of Light and Darkness and their quest to liberate Ala Mhigo and Doma.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AUish retelling of Stormblood, with Arbert primarily being a focus and a major component, having being brought back from the Lifestream. 
> 
> Most of these passages are in Arbert's perspective, but they do shift around from time to time amongst the supporting cast. I hope that they are identifiable enough that you are able to discern which passages belong to who's perspective! Would love feedback on this.

I still remember my first contact with her.

She wasn’t the kind of girl that you would forget, once you’ve laid your eye on her once.

I’m not talking about the unnatural sternness or the unnervingly chill manner she carried herself with, which you will know immediately once you’ve spent at least a minute in her presence.

Not the invisible pressure that surrounded her and the precise, machine-like movement.

Nor the innumerable glories that she held to her name and title, all of which when amassed, would surpass any valiant soldier’s heap of stories on the battlefield they would tell.

Not even when her doll-like face held no expression, you could see in her eyes her limpid and fiercely burning soul that seems to smolder in the blue. And they were focused on me, sharp and skilled like a hawk anticipating my motives from a distance.

No, not even that.

Well, I would say that her youthful and pretty face beneath the Auri braided turquoise hair, made me feel a small bit of pity. I almost doubted that a small girl like her was this World’s saviour and hero.

But she would stare at me, before that gaze was wrenched away when my companions would launch the first throes of their assault against her Scions.

And I wonder if she could make a different expression than the iron-clad look she wore.

That fitted, steel breastplate is tempting me to consider, whether her skin hidden beneath the metal and armour was the same lubricious, milky-white hues of her face.

I would quietly sigh inside, thinking how wasteful it would be once that face would be stained red with her own blood.

 

* * *

 

The plans that their Scion-turned-turncoat had laid so carefully  – the plans that the Man in White had set for us – was overturned in a single day of failure. The Kobold beastmen of Vylbrand failed to give the appropriate response that we were looking for.

I could not help but to unleash a flurry of harsh words against this would-be traitor.

I even let myself so far gone in my anger, that I could only feel the solid stone beneath my fist in that fit of rage. If just for a moment.

The masked Scion would serve his purpose to remind me that she would only double – no, _triple_ – her efforts in stopping everything that we’ve worked so hard for, now that her worldly duties have shifted onto our operations as her main interest.

The last meeting I saw of her was back in the bleak camp of those bloody, feathered Beastmen. I had said something to the effect of sparing of her life – and I could only turn on myself in frustration.

Why would I say such a thing?

Wasn’t I supposed to wrench her life away?

But I was glad inside. And that was why I lashed those threats and warnings at her when I saw her face at the top of that camp where the summoning ritual was to be held.

That face that was lined with sweat made an expression unknown to me, for the first time.

The cold, ice look she gave me was distorted in panic and worry, and even while her skin was slick with perspiration she looked immaculate as she coolly held her ground with her brown nosed steward.

I think the worst part out of this whole ordeal, is that I am consciously realising these thoughts and admitting that I have this perverse, infatuation with how I can defile that innocuous porcelain.

The very thought that strayed into my mind that I saw her more than simply another enemy I must defeat.

This story should have ended at this time, but everything sounded like a nasty joke as I would continue to brew in my contemplation.

 

* * *

 

Fate has a sickening away to pay you back for your hubris. I thought I had already run out of second chances and another attempt at redemption. Surely, I had thought.

The fight that we had believed in, shattered into so many pieces, laid bare before us.

The fight that we had exhausted our lives in, extinguished like a mere candle in the wind.

I could not begin to understand where we had fallen off the path, nor begin to ponder the “what if”s and the “perhap”s that would inevitably line my mind’s brow.

The Mother Crystal that had flooded my world with the gaping, swallowing light, in the form of her envoy, would serve as a momentary means to sate our anger. To quell our rage. Only for a short moment.

If I could, I would leave kicking and screaming until the very end. But there was a certain tiredness that crept at the back of my mind, and it gave pause in that moment.

That pause, wondering if perhaps ‘tis all I could have done.

I turned away to leave, as the rest of my companions had already resigned themselves to the conclusion of this story.

But something compelled me to turn back, and with one last glance, I wanted to see what sort of expression she could make.

In that goddamn twilight of aetherial void, her face only illuminated by the briefest of light.

That “weapon” that I have treated as such, and rightfully so, as she was a machine of war and violence and capable of felling the greatest of Primals.

She stood there silently, shedding tears. A thickness caught inside my throat, as I was astonished to see this doll crying for the first time.

She was crying like a human, for once.

Perhaps it was my sad tale that had moved her. Or perhaps it was the burden that she must carry on her small shoulders, now that she possesses the knowledge of the various Worlds she must attempt to salvage.

Even after when she had struggled so hard just to save her own realm.

She must be a very reliable person, I thought, before my vision would cut to black as I slipped into a muted oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

When one has to consider how exactly the universe works, the insurmountable mysteries would eventually collapse upon itself, and soon you are left befuddled by the confusion in the aftermath.

Much like how when you are still unsure if the enemy is still there when the dust is kicked up and still settling in the air.

I could not quite understand why I was conscious of feeling like I was floating, much less the fact that I could _think, feel_ and _hear._

The others? Perhaps already washed clean away by the Lifestream as we understand it.

But as for me, considering if I am lucky or unlucky, I could still feel myself. And I retained my sense of self.

The cold water that seeped around me was feeling heavier and heavier as seconds slid past slowly.

Spots of white sunlight pierced my closed eyes. I can feel the heat on my face, and then the rushing noise of heavy water hitting against itself. The stirrings of a forest came afterwards.

And then a very rough pair of hands pulling at my shoulders, hauling me quickly away from the easy, lazy pace that I was cruising in just moments ago.

I suppose I should wake up now, and expect that this was all some sort of dream.

But, as if I was meant to atone and suffer this bout of bad luck, I found myself engaged face-to-face with the all-too-familiar features of a certain doll.

She stood above me, standing with my head resting against her wetted thighs, hands balled around my soaked vestments so tightly as if they were afraid that I would slip from her grasp back into the river.

Eyes like blue fire meted against one another.

I could not help myself. She was there, dressed in naught but a cotton sheet that clung to her form as if she had hastily covered herself when she had spotted me floating like a corpse in the water.

Rather, I must have been found in the midst of her bathing ritual. This interruption was not unwelcomed on my end, I must admit.

Though I'm lacking words, I still don't know how to express this memory that was deeply engraved on my soul.

I saw her. And I wanted her.

“What a pretty lady!”

A sigh escaped the young woman’s lips.

If I can pen this singular experience into a novel then I would describe it as a pile of garbage bullshit that would be promptly put into the refuse.

 

* * *

 

What on earth was she thinking.

What on earth was she _proposing?_

I paced along the camp, and as usual my worries were laid bare on my back. But I could not help myself.

I could not help but question her mental faculties when she thought it was a bright thought to bring an enemy to our doorstep.

Much less, a person whom I was robbed of the pleasure of ripping his head from his shoulders. Ever since we had crossed blades, my hand twitched at the thought of crushing his life in my fingers.

He meant to do her harm. He meant to do _all_ of us harm.

And here he was sitting, at least bound by rope at my urgent behest, interred in the middle of the Alliance’s camp. In the midst of war brewing in the near horizon, especially after that harrowing ordeal at the top of the Castrum Oriens.

Yes, she had _actually_ thought it was wise not to end his life, but perhaps even joked at the possibility of having him join our ranks and work towards Lyse’s ideals?

What an idea!

I stopped my relentless pacing just to pause and throw a glare over at the man’s way. He seemed to take notice.

“You're lucky that we haven't contended with you yet due to the war.”

“I would consider that unlucky.”

“You have the Imperials to thank for that.”

“Wouldn’t I be thanking her? And not these invaders of yours?”

Well, he was certainly well-equipped in the bantering department.

“Or better yet, thank your hero who didn’t bat an eye having a wash in the middle of the forest, surrounded by some rather nasty monsters.”

This man pursued the moment when I had opted for silence. The urge to march over and clobber him into a silent submission was incredibly tempting.

“And this is why I had proposed to patrol earlier despite her insistence…” I caught myself muttering aloud.

“That’s a shame, that you couldn’t cop a view.”

He was mocking me now; as if his sympathetic sarcasm wasn’t enough.

I could see her figure in the distance, walking in quick strides over this way. She looked particularly perturbed to see my hand already resting by my waist.

She was quite well-accustomed in recognizing my bloodlust by now.

“Do not misunderstand me,” I could only hiss lest her hearing has ascended to the level of the Twelve. “I care for her as if she were of my own blood. I could never let allow her be touched by your sort of taint.”

His icy eyes seemed to fixate on me, before sauntering over to the more pleasurable view of his saviour who had dragged him out of the muddy Gyr Abanian water.

“That’s good to hear. Perhaps you can be the one to cut me down, and put me out of the misery she’s gotten me into.”

 

* * *

 

Their campaign of war had abruptly taken a drastic turn when their Resistance stronghold had some unexpected visitors show up.

And it wasn’t the sort of “show up” that regularly entailed the usual skirmish that would end with the losers running with their tails tucked between their legs.

It was the gritty, harsh reality where you can literally inhale the stagnant air, filled with the decaying scent of corpses that litter the battlefield.

Dreams constrained by blood and gunpowder.

There had been enough panic for most of the Alliance soldiers stationed at this Garlean fortress to abandon their post in their attempt to rush to their allies’ aid.

It was enough panic that allowed me to slip away from the camp, having loosened my bonds rather easily.

I had picked up my axe and felt the familiar cold steel seep its feeling into my hands.

I had thought the better of myself, having already planned a getaway and to be finally freed of the hand of cards Fate had dealt me.

But the thunderous roar of cannon fire across the valley worried me. I despised the unease, and began my trot over to this supposed stronghold that was under attack.

 

* * *

 

It was an accident.

I cannot define it if it was lucky or unlucky until now. That the arc of his sword stopped a second too late. Or a hairline too short.

Only a second, she pushed my body out of the way, her back covering the blinding glint of the fearsome viceroy’s grip on his grossly large, Doman sword.

Only a second, the sound of metal singing against metal, before that dreadful bone-crunching snap of something excising into her flesh.

Only a second, as I felt the paramount of energy well up from the earth beneath me before exploding me into blackness.

An enemy infantry woke me up. Maybe he thought it was another corpse on the field, or perhaps it’d be best to ensure that I was no longer breathing.

Whatever it was, I still felt my grip around my axe and slammed it in his face. A blow like that would have killed him instantly. He would have never known.

It was a stupid idea, because of my noisy actions, I have alerted several others. I could only barely register that the battle’s conclusion had already been drawn out. It was the Alliance’s loss.

While the enemy frontlines were retreating, several others were slow to recede and were perhaps hunting for some bounty to bring back.

One of them began to run towards me with his pike raised upwards. I considered, in that dull moment, whether to just take the spearhead and be done with it, but his body fell short before it could reach me.

She had risen from behind me and had thrown her own fearsome spear squarely into his chest, sending the man who was about to gore a hole in me, into hell.

“I didn’t know the Warrior of Light could be defeated.”

She seemed unsteady, but that was when I noticed the pieces of brittle armor that was crumbling away from her frame that was littered in scarlet.

“I’m… sorry I disappointed you…” She didn’t finish her sentence with her favourite quip at the end before she fell to the ground.

I saw the terrible injury on her side that looked almost split open, from the moment when she had shielded me.

The ash and dust that was beginning to mingle into her hair was dulling the silky lustre it used to hold.

Dolls were not supposed to fall asleep.

This weapon was not supposed to break.

This girl was not supposed to dream.

Her name. What was it again?

“Wake up! Can you hear me?” Clarity was restored to my senses as I gripped her shoulder. The enemy was moving in.

“Yes… I’m sorry.” She did not strike me as a person who would apologise so quickly, let alone so much.

“Can you move?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Hold on to me.”

A hand covered in leather would fumble its way into the crook of my arm, but her hold was weak. Her spear still lay embedded in a corpse a few paces away.

This was not going to work.

“They’re coming.” Her voice was growing smaller.

I glanced up. Three more, at 2 o’clock. One of them was armed with a bow. The other with the regular bearings of a sword and scutum in his hand.

Miraculously, she managed to stand up without falling unconscious despite that grievous wound.

“I’ll cover you.”

“What?”

“Y’shtola.” She must mean her Seeker of the Sun companion who was wounded. “Find Krile. She needs to know… what happened to Y’shtola.” She walked forwards, and I could see the trail of red that followed her like a shadow.

“Are you crazy?”

“No. Don’t worry, I’ll cover you. I can at least hold them off.”

She was focused on only one thing. And that was to have me back down from this fight that she started.

Her wish to refrain me from involving only angered me.

“What the bloody hells are you talking about?”

“Lieutenant!” A voice rang out.

A small squadron of Immortal Flame soldiers flanked the remaining offenders, making short work of them. It was almost pathetic to see how quickly that affair had been tidied up.

Almost, as if they were a second too late.

She looked stunned, barely recognizing the rank of her own title she held in the presence of her own Company.

Nothing but the littered corpses burning filled the night air.

I happened to catch her when I noticed that she had fallen faint once more. A fresh wave of warm, wet crimson met my bracer, making it slick with her blood.

The Vice Marshal, despite his Lalafellin stature, held a voice louder than I thought possible, and began to scream an order.

“Don’t just stand there with your mouths hanging open, you dullards! Find a godsdamn chirurgeon!”

The red was blossoming the dirtied, white collar of her uniform and I couldn’t help but to wrench the broken breastplate off her chest. The leather straps were practically giving way from the slightest bit of force, thanks to the damage that had been done.

She was despondent now, the color having left her pallid face long ago, and I could only see the faintest shiver that trembled inside her chest from her shallow breathing.

I felt the sharp sting of a knife’s edge digging cautiously into the underside of my jaw.

Her snowy-haired guardian had at last, arrived.

“A step too late, my friend.”

“Let go of her.”

“I’m staunching her bleeding, can’t you see?”

The knife whipped away, but left a cut anyway. I felt the warm wetness trickle drip down.

My hand that was clenched over her abdomen was beginning to feel permeated with her blood that was gathering the droplets into a budding pool on the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

Perhaps it was the fact that he had saved my dear friend’s life as it was hanging by but naught a thread, that made me open up a little more to the fellow Hyuran stranger. I didn’t sense any sort of ill intention from him, and with Meffrid gone now, I supposed that I was still sore in the heart.

I desperately wanted to find an ally in this man.

He was standing off by the side, now apparently free to roam around as he saw fit. At least, within the confines of the camp, the Alliance had set up. We had briefly retreated back to the Castrum when Rhalgar’s Reach fell.

He too could hear the muted screams of pain and agony from the soldiers that were being treated. The ones lucky enough to survive.

But he looked particularly concerned as he kept his eyes trained on a particular tent.

“Arbert!”

He looked startled that I had called him by his name. And the look on his face almost said, “How did you know?”

And then the look of, “I don’t know your name”.

“Lyse.” I extend a hand out in a wave, helping further his memory along.

He looked stiff at the familiarity I was throwing at him.

“They didn’t let you in, huh?”

“Not when that watchdog of hers is around.”

“You mean Thancred?”

“Is that his name?”

He looked back at the infirmary tent, where the entrance was closed off by a heavy curtain. It opened briefly when Krile would exit along with a Resistance alchemist along tow, discussing poultices and a schedule to adhere to the medication.

In that window of opportunity, one could see her lying on that cot very clearly.

“Are you worried?” I tried to continue the conversation.

“About?”

“Well... about her, of course…”

He shifted his gaze away, but almost reluctantly so.

“I think it would be overbearing if I were to start worrying about Eorzea’s defender, on top of practically the entire realm.”

“That’s a funny way to say ‘Thancred’ if you ask me.”

He didn’t find my joke nor my smile very funny, it seemed.

“I suppose if that’s how things are between them.”

He sounded resigned as if he was willingly accepting the notion of the circumstance peacefully inside.

“I may be a bit of a dunce about these sort of things, but I know for sure that’s not the case.”

“A watchdog does not willingly become a lapdog if you ask me.”

“No, but he’s still hurting from having lost his former charge recently.”

A blank expression met my stare.

“I think he wants to fill that hole in his heart by trying to protect the ones that are left over.”

Minfillia was gone. And while it was a fact that everyone found hard to accept, Thancred doubly so.

And now, Meffrid is gone, too.

And so many countless others.

When will I also lose her? The one who had supported me without question in my selfish qualms to save my homeland?

 

* * *

 

The worst of the treatment was over. All I can do is sit idly by her side and change out the cold cloth to bring her fever down.

Krile had healed most of the cut beautifully, but it could not stop the infection from spreading. In the dirty battlefield, an open wound meant certain death even if one were to survive the nightmare.

Even Y’shtola, who arguably had been injured the most heavily, had attained some form of consciousness already.

But she continued to lay there, wavering between life and death.

Sometimes, it would feel like she could’ve just faded away.

The general mood of the camp fared no better. Morale was low, and Master Kemp looked forlorn at the prospect of having already lost the war.

Resistance fighters, sitting listlessly day after day, wondering when the end will come for them all.

If only she would just open her eyes.

Stand up strong and proud, like how she had done so as always, instilling that same bravery in men’s hearts.

Not some weakened body lying in a bloody cot in this forsaken camp that could be overrun at any moment.

 

* * *

 

The Lalafellin scholar was not as trusting as the Hyuran girl who seemed eager to befriend me, it seems.

So it was to my surprise when she would request that I visit her late one evening, in the rare moment that her usual watchdog was sent away on a patrol.

It wasn’t like I had wanted to see a corpse anyway… 

But I supposed it would be better to oblige, lest she made some form of a complaint to the rogue who would not hesitate to butcher me in my sleep. 

Inside the dim tent, lit by naught but a small oil lantern, she was lying in her cot. 

And she was awake, staring at the fabric above her. 

I was reminded of our first meeting, and how skillfully she seemed and how fierce her eyes were. 

But that burning fire was not present. Instead, her eyes were clouded and despondent. 

The doll had returned into being a doll. 

But this time it had no purpose. 

“How the mighty hath fallen.” 

She finally seemed to take notice, but merely closed her eyes slowly as if she was falling asleep. 

Her hand touched the side where it was heavily bandaged. 

“I’m glad to see my efforts did not go in vain.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she had not spoken a word in days. And it was likely she did not. 

“‘Twas a stupid effort.” I could not help but to say. 

“Good enough, that Thancred did not butcher you in your sleep yet.” 

It was almost ironic that she thought the same thing I did, moments ago. Was she a mind reader? 

“Is that all? Is this how you end?” 

She strained even to breathe, in the constraints of the very pieces of cloth that barely kept her together in one piece. 

“If this is the end of my rope, so be it. The only regret I have is that I could not go on my own terms.” 

“Then don’t.” 

“Hard to say,” a wheeze came rumbling out of her small chest. “I do hate unfinished business.” 

“Aside from fighting and winning an impossible war?” 

She chuckled. It was the first time I heard her laugh. Or the way how her eyes creased when she smiled. But it was so faint, that it taxed her immensely. 

“You have to finally come to see me, Arbert, and this is what you have to say to me?” 

The way how my name rolled so casually off my tongue was almost offensive. So offensive, that I wanted to shut her up. 

“You…” 

I found myself on top of her, almost having toppled the crate and lantern over in this small, confined space. She stared back at me with those empty eyes, as if she could care less at what I would do to her. 

Violence? 

Rape? 

She endured it all. She could endure it again. 

Better yet, maybe if she died, then that would be the end of that. 

“What?” She asked plainly. 

“Shut up.” 

It was the first time that I could not calculate what my own motives were. 

It was the first time to know that she was capable of such a smoldering expression. 

It was the first time I knew how small she actually was, and how broad I seemed in comparison. 

That the taste of her mouth could be so stinging. 

That breath could be so heavy. 

And…

Such kisses could be so rude.

“This is not the end.” I said, like a mantra or an incantation to myself so I could feel like I can believe in it.

“Aye.” She looked a bit taken aback, as if questioning my motives.

My only motive was for her to live and survive.


	4. Chapter 4

It was mysterious.

The moment the vigour returned to her flesh, the spirits of the men in the camp did as well.

She was sitting up and having her morning meal with the rest of her squadron, making light conversation. Patched up and bruised, but the colour now returned to her face.

The doll’s soft expressions twisted gently into a smile. She glanced up to look at me.

I looked away quickly.

I thought it rude perhaps that she had caught me staring, that I shouldn’t anymore.

But as fate would have it, she got up from her spot by the crowd and made her way over.

I felt furiously singled out, but I dare not let it show on my face.

I would just face her with that same look of indifference that is well-accustomed.

My nature as a man who has had his way with plenty of barmaids in the past compels me so.

However, when she would stare at me with a rather guileless face, and asked me simply if I wanted some breakfast, I wasn’t sure how to respond.

I would look like an arse for blowing off her generosity, and considering she still looked like she was in shambles…

“But if not, that is fine.” A placid, content tone lulled in her voice.

“I doubt I would make good company.”

She laughed.

Something inside of me tells me that perhaps it was part of my doing that had livened her spirit to a strange high today. Mayhaps she was fond of the kiss we had shared a few nights ago.

My chest swelled with pride at the thought of it.

“Actually, I wanted to tell you… that we will be leaving for Revenant’s Toll.”

“Oh, I see. Safe travels then, I suppose.”

“Arbert, I did say ‘we’... collectively, _you_ are included as well.”

Disbelief sharpened my gaze.

“And I have no say in this?” 

“Where will you go, then?”

Her question caught me off-guard. Certainly, the alternative was to wander aimlessly in this vessel of flesh until it expires. I did not have an interest in the war she was fighting, either. But…

“You’ve not yet healed, barely standing.” Anything to make her reconsider.

“If you are so worried, then accompany me. Because this revolution has not ended yet.”

The fire returned to her eyes. The spirit that had been lying dormant inside was ignited by the very words she spoke, as she bore burning eyes onto my visage.

“This time, we take the fight to Doma.”

 

* * *

  
It was sunny. 

And the sky was an unbelievable blue.

Wind, tasting like the sea salt.

Water, stretching out in all directions around us, as far as the eye can see.

A homesickness I never knew before stirred inside my chest.

It was almost tempting us to explore the open unknown.

Thankfully, our journey was chartered on a course set for such unknown lands.

Even as I toiled at the sails and helped the crew fasten the knots. They were impressed that a foreigner could handle a boat as if they had known one all their life.

I may have had taken up adventuring as my main choice of profession in my previous life, but even before that, I grew up as a fisherman’s son. I know how to work my way around on a ship. 

I paused in the midst of my handiwork. A hand raised to wipe the sweat from my brow. 

The ship’s captain stood alongside with the Warrior of Light, lightly conversing about the winds being favourable for their trip. She seemed to be taking attendance on every worker and foremen, ensuring that their journey was running well-oiled and slick.

My hand dragged my dirtied linen shirt upwards to wipe the perspiration off my face. It looked rather unsightly, so I pulled it off. A man at sea should be barechested after all.

I didn’t notice her staring at me until moments later after I had finished inspecting the sails.

There was a troubled look in her eye. Her gaze didn’t quite meet mine. 

“What is it?”

She looked somewhat alarmed and cleared her throat. A tinge of uncertainty marred her tone.

“Ah… no. It’s just, I’m impressed.”

“You didn’t think that I could work the sails as well as the others, did ye?”

“It’s a pleasant surprise.” She admitted honestly, seeing no sense to lie.

“It’s the least I can do.” I corrected her; tone rough.

“Yes… um, thank you. Carry on.” Somehow that last sentence came out as a mumble and she would quickly walk away, returning back to Lyse’s side.

“That’s the first I’ve seen her looking so flustered.” A voice rang from behind.

The voice belonged to the younger sister of… well, the younger Elezen twin who had opted to join this trip along with her ambassador brother, and she stood with a knowing smirk on her face.

“Is that so? But still, none of my damn business.” My clipped tone warned her not to overstep her bounds. 

But unfortunately, the lass possessed bravery as bold as a sharp tongue. And perhaps an even sharper set of eyes. 

It worries me that she looked like a coeurl having caught a canary in its jaw. 

“I am but a mere spectator.” She looked gleeful as some sort of absurd thought entered her mind space.

“Should I worry?”

“Perhaps. Know that I am still _quite_ bitter regarding the circumstances of our last meeting.”

So she was still sore about when J’rhoomale had shot her with her poisoned arrow.

“I suppose that’s fair. I’m lucky to even be here, at all.”

“Only by her grace, you are.” The Elezen girl twirled her fingers in dismissal as she turned around to leave. 

“The rest of us haven’t accepted you yet.”

 

* * *

 

The Scion’s bookkeeper had approached me out of panicked necessity in her quest to find the Warrior of Light.

“She should’ve been in bed by now!” The woman mewled in earnest concern.

She looked ready to burst into tears or to give a stern talking to a certain troublesome person.

I don’t know why I accepted her plea to help her locate this missing, injured person.

She wasn’t in the private quarters, that was for sure. And so, I ventured to go back up on deck. 

The deck was only manned by a handful of sailors on the night watch. At first glance, I could not catch a glimpse of her anywhere.

However, I had the sensibility to search upwards. Dragoons have a tendency to survey from a distance; I surmised she was no different.

Standing with impeccable balance, high atop a beam that held the largest sail on top of the Kraken’s Arms, did I find her.

I was lost for a moment, wondering how such a figure bathed in moonlight could look so clear. 

She seemed focused ahead as if her eyes were trained on a target yet unseen.

“Oi, lass! What’re you doing up there?”

The boatswain shouted out in his boisterous voice.

“Yer gonna fall at this rate!”

She did not seem to heed his warning and he stomped off, muttering darkly to himself.

I thought I ought to do something, but in the moment where I debated on my next course of action… she jumped.

My mind raced as I spy her frame plummet from such a great height, as time slowed.

Was she suicidal? 

She contorted in an angle at some point in her dive, and she landed nimbly on her feet. A hand pushed against the deck to stabilize her fall.

And then she staggered and fell anyway.

I walked over, wondering what in the seven hells she was up to.

An audible groan escaped her lips, and she clutched her sides as if she was riding out the spasm of pain that wracked her body. 

“And this is why the injured should rest.” 

She turned to face me, looking rather alarmed. Perhaps she did not expect me to witness such a spectacle.

“A-Arbert?”

“Practising our jumps, I see?”

Colour flooded her cheeks and she stubbornly looked away in embarrassment.

Instinctively, I smirked.

“Gods, I… I, uhm. I did not expect anyone to see me like that.” She sighed.

I did not expect to see that either, I would admit.

“I’ve been tasked to fetch you for bed. Your friend… Tataru, was it? She looked miserable regarding your disobedience.”

“Tataru simply worries too much.” A defeated sigh came next.

“While the night air is good and all; you may catch a chill. I doubt we can afford that at the moment.”

“Is that concern I am detecting from you?”

She seemed recovered from her earlier pains. A playful smile painted her expression instead.

This was another smile I did not know was possible, for her to make.

“Is that an invitation I sense?” My voice lowered.

She took my arm and hoisted herself up without a word. The blood rushed to her head it seems, as she staggered again.

I steadied her with my other arm.

“I… erm.” Even in the dimness of the night, I could feel the heat pooling around her cheeks.

Gods, it was like she was a completely different person from the one I first met.

She opened her mouth as if to give me another quip – nay, perhaps another reprimand, but…

But instead, she closed her eyes.

As if captured by the moment.

My breath caught in my throat. And I leaned down towards her face.

The dull, thrashing of the waves rocked all around us.

“There you are!” A high-pitched voice piped up in excitement, having found her ward. We released each other immediately. 

“Come along now, young lady! You’re in trouble for delaying your bedtime!” The Lalafellin woman scolded the mighty Warrior of Light without a hitch, and almost hilariously so.

For a moment I thought perhaps the accusatory tone was aimed at me, for overstepping my boundaries.

But it appears that in the cloak of the night, what had been intended, was veiled in the shadows.

The young Auri woman in front of me was being led sternly in hand by the Scion’s bookkeeper.

I stifled a laugh, and she whipped around to give me an embarrassed glare.


	5. Chapter 5

“All hands on deck!”

The first mate’s cry of alarm echoed faintly in the muffling silence. Heavy fog and mist surrounded the Kraken’s Arms from all sides, making it impossible to see anything beyond few fulms ahead.

The night lurched into an unexpected encounter with an unknown threat.

“Gods have mercy…” A sailor muttered under his breath as a parade of deep-sea voidsent hauled their wet bodies on board the ship deck.

I dragged my axe by my side, hauling the expanse of steel up into a furious stroke and felled one of the creatures. Its palpably, spongy body fell into a sluice of its own innards; shuddering as it expired.

“You can’t!” A voice shouted out from some ways behind. I turned my head back for a moment.

The Lalafellin coinmaster of the Scions was trying her hardest to drag the Warrior of Light back into the ship’s private quarters, despite the dire situation. The Auri woman refused to acquiesce.

“Don’t be stubborn!” Tataru protested vehemently; her small hands balled into surprisingly strong fists at the hem of her ward’s shirt.

Another faint splash in the water and I turned back to face a fresh wave of void-touched wavekin boarded the decks. At this point, her other more battle-hardened companions were already engaged in battle; making quick work to lay the monstrosities to rest.

At last, the boat slammed hard, having breached land. The sudden force sent several unprepared souls tumbling back.

“No time to argue, if you’re going to exterminate whatever it is that’s keeping us in this godsdamn fog, you’d best hurry.” I irritably called after her.

She nodded.

“Tataru, please help me fetch my armour.”

 

* * *

 

The island was eerily quiet.

We tread upon this foreign land with utmost care, lest we unleash some other unknown horrors for us to contend with. Much less, with our hero still weakened and not quite at full strength, I had to play the party’s strengths conservatively.

I cupped my chin in thought while holding onto my tome tightly in case danger approached us. I had to strategize, for the sake of everything we’ve staked so far in this fight.

Yes, resources must be spent carefully. But, as it stands currently… our greatest card to play is not the Warrior of Light, but mayhaps, this man…

His strength was no laughing matter, that was for sure. No mortal is capable of mowing down the front lines of enemies the way how Arbert did. He was reckless, sure, but his recklessness could be forgiven by his tenacious show of brute strength.

“Alphinaud? You look occupied.”

I glanced up, meeting eyes with her. It was strange to see her decked in her usual armour; looking like a valkyrie ready to ride off into battle any moment. Mayhaps I was too adjusted to the sight of her in rags and bundled up in bandages.

“Ah, I was just thinking about this strange phenomenon we’ve found ourselves in, that’s all.” I gave her a weak smile.

“Best keep your eyes ahead lest you lose that head of yours.” My sister always found some snide remark to say, but I knew she meant well.

“As long as the boy can stay in the rear and keep us healed with his magicks, ‘tis fine.” Arbert’s gruff opinion came sauntering in from the front, where he was currently leading the expedition.

“I’ll do my best.” A raised brow met his statement, but his head was turned, thus I could only keep my sentiments to myself.

“As long as you don’t lunge ahead of the group.” She spoke up in a tone that was almost reprimanding. “Lest you forget, in our last battle you charged so far forwards you were beyond Alphinaud’s reach of his healing spell!”

“Aye, lest I should forget that I have to ensure you aren’t beaten half to death by jellyfishes, much less having to retrieve your corpse afterwards!”

The two began another long tirade of bickering.

I grumbled. “At this rate, we’ll wake the whole island with how noisy we are…”

I pressed a finger against the space between my eyes; rubbing away the onset of a headache.

Lyse merely laughed quietly to herself.

 

* * *

There appeared to be no end in sight to this godsforsaken island.

We had cleaved our way through hordes of voidsent, wavekin and walking corpses likely the result of drowned sailors that had befallen to the misfortune of this place. And the stench of death was only growing stronger the deeper we go.

“Are you sure this is the right way ahead?” I called after her. She had the sudden idea to walk ahead of me, having some strange sense come over her. Such was the effect of being a child of the Light, I surmised.

She glanced at the overgrown coral-studded earth as she slowly surveyed the area. “I feel… that strange force that compelled us to this place growing stronger.”

Her wayfinding skills had thus so far brought the group through quite a lot, so I was a bit skeptical.

“Careful you don’t stray too far ahead!” Alphinaud called out. “We don’t know what’s –”

A geyser erupted from the ground near where she stood and the jet of water slammed her backwards.

Instinctively, I rushed forwards… not thinking about my footing –

She shouted out when she felt the earth beneath our feet crumble away; flinging her arm out wildly, she tried to reach for my outstretched hand.

At that moment, I spotted a void-touched jellyfish had sprung up from behind the rocks, and raised its stinger, aiming to strike.

I kicked off whatever stable ground was left and dove in after her falling figure, pushing her head close to my chest to shield her.

I could feel a burning hotness searing against my leg before we tumbled down the cliffside; the cries of her companions echoing dimly from behind.

The soreness barely registered, and that wasn’t good. Opening my eyes, I could only see the warped distortion of the foggy, dull grey that clung close to the earth.

I tried to sit up, but immediately I was pinned back down to the earth from vertigo that assaulted my senses.

“Arbert!”

I felt a pair of hands haul me up, much like the time she fished me out of the river.

Groggily I stared up and saw her face.

“Oh good… the Twelve haven’t taken you yet.” I managed to mutter now, on the verge of passing out from the venom.

“By the love of Halone, let’s hope they won’t take you.” She fired back, steadying a hand on my shoulder so that I wouldn’t tip over.

“Just leave me be… your scholar isn’t here to work his magicked mending.”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me, or else the poison will reach your heart that much quicker!” There was some sort of panic in her voice now. Her frame exited my limited sense of sight. What on earth was she doing?

Fingers curled around the spot where I had been stung. The venomous barb had breached the fabric of my trousers and left a cut where it had administered its deadly dose.

Working deftly, she tore the fabric back a bit more before tying a tight knot right above the cut. It appears that she was trying to cut off the blood from circulating the toxin throughout my body.

“You don’t have an antidote, do you?”

“No, but…”

Removing a flask from her hip, she poured clean water over the cut. I sat back as the perspiration began to set in, head resting against the bedrock.

“Bear with me for a moment.”

Lips met my flesh, and with some force, I could feel the pressure against my wound as she began to suck the blood out. Spitting it out immediately to the side, she went back at it again.

An uncomfortable grunt came out from the back of my throat.

The gesture meant well, but the fact that a young woman was sucking a cut on my thigh was not exactly proper.

The faint bump of her teeth. Her tongue pressing against my skin. Her lips wrapping tightly as she retrieved a mouthful of blood after another.

My hand that was resting against my knee was turning white as I gripped it _too_ tightly.

“There they are!”

“Oh, thank heavens… wait… what on earth?”

I could spot the blurred figures of people approaching from the distance. The Scions. They must have found another way down the cliffside, and well, now they have found us.

In this position.

“What are you two _doing?!_ ”

Spitting out what seemed to be her final mouthful of blood, she wiped her mouth quickly before cleaning the cut again with fresh water. I dared not face her; but instead, sat rigidly in the spot as not to seem awkward.

Alisaie was the first of the trio to approach us, quick and keen to decipher the ambiguous situation.

“I think it’s best to treat him with a proper antidote afterwards.” She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone; a twinge of red still tinting her mouth.

Alisaie looked back with a rather difficult expression. I couldn’t blame her.

“You know… the sight of a woman on her knees and her head bobbing up and down between a man’s legs is never a good one.”

I covered my face with an open palm to hide the rising heat in my face.

“Yes, but if I don’t remove the poison…” Her voice came innocuously once more.

Lyse and Alphinaud had caught up at this point, catching a whiff of the conversation.

“Oh good, I hoped he wasn’t _forcing_ you to do him favours.” Lyse’s remarks, in my opinion, should be left unsaid.

A cooling sensation washed over my leg, and I glanced up to see the other Elezen twin having opened his tome and summoned forth a burst of magick to properly cleanse the toxins.

Despite his kind action, his face was twisted in disgust.

“I didn’t ask for any of this!” I couldn’t help but roar out loud.


End file.
